


As Long as You Hold Me Tight

by Illuminahsti



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Feelings, Loneliness, Other, non-denominational holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21963715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illuminahsti/pseuds/Illuminahsti
Summary: Peter doesn't know what to do on holidays, but he knows he wants Juno there
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 16
Kudos: 116





	As Long as You Hold Me Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone. I don't know what they celebrate on Mars, but I hope it includes good food and candles and games with friends.

They played cards late into the night, late enough that Peter’s eyelids were heavy and he could barely focus on the cards. He thought about going to bed, but when he looked around the table, all of his companions were still laughing, cheerfully ribbing each other as they swapped cards back and forth. They had abandoned poker an hour before (shortly after Peter had lost all his money) and gone on to old maid. Somehow Jet had won every single round.

He felt an odd pang of loneliness, even surrounded by people. When he tried to catch Juno’s eye, Juno was busy leaning over the table to grab Vespa’s cards, laughing as she growled and smacked his hands.

They were all having a wonderful time without him, and he was a little drunk and a lot tired and if he wasn’t careful, he would start being maudlin in public.

Thankfully, Jet ended the game by playing his last pair of goats, and everyone dissolved into a chorus of groans and curses. Peter put down his cards and stood. He wobbled as he did so—drunker than he had thought.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” he said, and he was pretty sure his voice sounded steady.

“Stay one more game, Ransom,” Buddy coaxed. “I’m almost certain we can break Jet’s winning streak.”

“No, no,” he said vaguely. “No, I’ll see you all in the morning. Merry Midwinter, or whatever it is we’re celebrating.”

“Goodnight then, Dear.”

Peter nodded, and rested a hand on Juno’s shoulder as he walked behind him. Juno laid his fingers over Peter’s for just a second, an acknowledgment of the touch, but he didn’t break in his argument with Vespa. 

Peter brushed his teeth, not looking at his reflection in the tiny bathroom mirror, then stripped off his clothes in his room and crawled into his bunk. It was cold in his room, like it always was; the core of the ship that sat under the kitchen could only spread its heat so far, and fuel was expensive.

The sheets were still icy cold when Juno let himself into the room.

He wore pajamas and a soft microfiber hoodie that hung to his thighs. “Mind if I join you?” he asked softly.

“Please,” Peter said, a note of desperation in his voice.

Juno slipped under the covers with a rush of cold air, but then his chest was against Peter’s back, and his arms were around him, and one of his legs was hitched over both of Peter’s, and warmth seeped into him at every point of contact.

Peter exhaled a shuddering breath, then reached up and laid his hand on top of Juno’s. Juno’s hand was warm and calloused, and the dry skin caught against Peter’s stomach, a comforting rasp of sensation.

“You okay?” Juno asked, because he always saw Peter too clearly.

“Just tired.”

“Nureyev…” Juno exhaled, and Peter surrendered. He didn’t want to be strong and silent in from of Juno.

He closed his eyes all the same. “I find all this enforced merriment to be… exhausting.”

“You’re usually the life of the party,” Juno protested, but he ran his warm hand up and down Peter’s side in a comforting motion.

“Yes but…” Peter hesitated. He had trouble explaining the hollow feeling that had grown bigger all through dinner and cards, and even now he wasn’t sure he understood it. “We never had holidays in Brahma… the government decided they distracted from work. So they hold no nostalgia for me. When I was working, it was easy to dress according to a particular planet’s traditions and be charming, but this… this is different.”

Juno huffed out a small, teasing laugh. “Different because you have to be genuine?”

Peter laughed at himself too. “If you insist on eviscerating me so efficiently, yes, I suppose so.”

“We’re only doing it because we want to spend time together.”

“I know. And I do want to be there. But sometimes it feels lonely anyway.”

Juno hummed in consideration. “Since Ben… it doesn’t matter what the holiday is, it still feels like half a celebration.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “Like that. Something is missing, but it doesn’t feel like anyone else notices. Not,” he added hastily, “That I expect it comes close to losing Benzaiten.”

Juno sighed, his breath tickling the back of Peter’s neck. “I don’t know. We’re both missing our childhoods.”

Peter made a small noise of assent.

Juno’s hands teased down Peter’s hipbone. “You know… we can make our own new traditions, if you like that.”

“That sounds so nice.”

Juno kissed Peter’s shoulder, just over the neckline of his shirt. “What should we do?”

“I like this… you holding me like this.”

Juno shifted and pushed himself up, so when he spoke, his voice was clearer. “Sweetheart,” he said, teasing clear in his voice, “You can have that every night, if you want it.”

Peter rolled onto his back to look up at Juno’s outline in the dim light. “I don’t mind holding you sometimes.”

“That seems fair.” Juno kissed him, slowly, and Peter could feel his smile against his lips, even if it was too dark to see it. Juno pulled back, and then repositioned himself under the covers so Peter’s head was tucked on his chest.

“I’m serious,” he said. “What do you want to do tomorrow? Something special.”

Peter considered, turning over a variety of other planet’s festive holidays.

“Pancakes,” he finally settled on.

Juno’s laugh vibrated through his chest. “Okay, Nureyev, I’ll make you pancakes for breakfast.”

“No, I want to make them together.”

“I don’t think burning down the kitchen is a popular tradition.”

“Shut up,” Peter grumbled. “You can manage the frying pan. I’ll mix the dough.”

“Okay, Babe,” Juno said, still a hint of a laugh in his voice. “Are pancakes special to you?”

“No, I just like them. I’ve never had them outside of a diner before.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Peter didn’t know how Juno switched from teasing to sincerity so fast, but Peter believed him.

“What do you want to do?” Peter asked.

Juno was quiet for such a long time that only his hand gently rubbing Peter’s back told Peter he hadn’t fallen asleep. “I want to make pancakes with you,” he said slowly. “And then I want to wash the dishes together, and go for a walk planet side, and not try too hard to do much of anything.”

Peter exhaled slowly. “Yes,” he said. “Doing that with you… I want that.”

They settled deeper into Peter’s next of blankets. Juno pulled on the comforter and tucked it around Peter’s shoulders.

“Juno?” Peter whispered into the dark.

“Mm?”

“I meant it. You holding me, that’s enough.”

“I like to do it,” Juno said, voice rough with sleep and contentment.

Peter tried to put the weight of his thoughts into words, the deep contentment he felt, the way that the heat from Juno’s hands melted the ice in his belly, the way he could not bring himself to be insincere in front of Juno, the fact that Juno was his home, the only tradition that he cared to keep.

He settled on, “I love you.”

Juno’s hand tightened against his back. “Love you too,” he said.


End file.
